


Shooting Pool

by magicbubblepipe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Dry Humping, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3546605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicbubblepipe/pseuds/magicbubblepipe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ellen stumbles upon Sam and Dean getting a little too friendly on her pool table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shooting Pool

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know where this little fic came from. One minute I was brushing my teeth and the next I was scribbling this plot bunny down in my journal. Anyway, enjoy?

            “Your form’s all wrong, little brother,” Dean says to Sam where he’s bent over the pool table.

            “Oh yeah?” Sam tosses back, peering over his shoulder. “Well you’re the one who taught me, so who’s fault is it?” His taunting words are accompanied by a little shimmy of his hips that sends Dean’s blood rushing south fast enough to make him dizzy.

            Dean licks his lips and sidles up behind his brother, blanketing his back and stretching his arm out along Sam’s where he’s holding the cue. Harvelle’s Road House is completely vacant save for the Winchesters. Ellen went back into the kitchen half an hour ago and hasn’t been seen since. Jo has yet to arrive and Ash is probably asleep somewhere. It’s only nine o’clock in the morning so anyone with half a brain isn’t hanging out in a bar.

            Dust motes dance slowly in the light streaming in from the windows and the air is still and quiet. Dean is hyper aware of his breathing and Sam’s, the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. He uses his hand to line up Sam’s shot and then gracefully sinks three balls at once. Sam huffs out a little sound of amusement and turns just enough to give Dean a little sideways smile, dimples digging deep and eyes flashing with mischief.

            “You sure know how to handle your stick,” Sam says, almost laughing.

            Dean’s not laughing. He leans in close and puffs a warm breath against the shell of Sam’s ear, “Mmm, you bet I do.” And that shouldn’t be sexy at all but Sam shivers underneath him. Dean finally lets his crotch come into full contact with the curve of Sam’s ass and lets out a relieved sigh.

            Sam sucks in a surprised breath but he pushes back just a little. “Dean, are you crazy?”

            “Probably,” Dean replies, grinding the hard line of his cock against his brother. “Don’t worry, Sammy. Nobody’s gonna see.”

            Sam’s not so sure about that but he is sure that he’s really turned on and his own dick is digging into the edge of the pool table. With a noise that’s both pleasure and resignation, he humps forward into the table and back into Dean, grinding denim on denim. Dean meets his thrust and soon they’re rocking together against the pool table.

            “God, Sammy,” Dean growls into his ear, “wish I could just yank your pants down and fuck you right here.”

            Sam bites his lip on a moan, his cheeks blossoming red. He drops the pool cue and uses a hand to brace himself on the table. The other he reaches back to push through Dean’s hair, tugging at the short spikes until Dean leans in and swipes his tongue up the side of his neck. Sam gasps out Dean’s name, dick spilling pre-come inside his boxers. Dean’s got one hand on the table and the other wrapped around his brother’s front, pawing at his chest through his thin t-shirt.

…       

Ellen emerges from the kitchen, arms laden with bowls of bar nuts but she stops short at a sound. It’s something breathy, like a gasp. Her hand itches for a weapon but she’s got both occupied. Cautiously, she nudges open the door and peeks out into the bar. Her eyes are immediately drawn to frenzied movement over by the pool table.

            She’s impressed with herself that she doesn’t make some kind of noise of alarm when she sees it, sees _them_. The Winchester boys. Dean’s got Sam pinned against the pool table and for the barest of seconds, she assumes they’re having some kind of fight. But there’s no mistaking the rhythmic grind of their bodies or the desperate little sounds that drift out over the empty bar.

            Ellen is frozen. She’s stuck between the bar and the kitchen, holding a ton of nuts and she has no earthly idea what to do. She’s terrified to move, afraid she’ll make a sound and alert them to her presence. That would be awkward all the way around and she doesn’t think she’d be able to meet their eyes after that. And also, she’s not sure she’s okay with this gay incestuous hump fest occurring on her pool table. Granted, Ash sleeps on that table so it’s probably not the worst that thing has seen.

            “Fuck, Sammy. Got me so hard with that pretty little ass of yours. Been driving me crazy all morning.”

            Ellen burns up to the tips of her ears. She should _not_ be hearing this.

            “Shit, I’m close, Dean,” Sam gasps, bitten red mouth open and searching for Dean’s.

            Dean cups Sam’s jaw, turning his head far enough to kiss him. As soon as their lips crush together, Sam’s hips jerk erratically and he lets out a keening noise that probably would have been a shout. Dean grips him more tightly, grinding furiously against him until he goes rigid, releasing Sam’s mouth on a sound that’s almost pained and drops his forehead onto his brother’s shoulder. They rock together through their orgasms, Dean’s arms winding tight around Sam in a hug as Sam slumps against the table.

            Ellen stands stock still for several moments, stunned. Although, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feels like she shouldn’t be so surprised. She could tell that the boys were very close. Very, _very_ close, apparently. They’d grown up in the hunting life together, probably unable to form any relationships outside of each other. It’s not unimaginable that they’d grow together this way. Honestly, Ellen doesn’t care what they do. If they’re happy with each other, then good for them. As long as the being happy doesn’t occur on her pool table.

            She hears Sam and Dean whispering to each other. Little endearments only meant for the other to hear. Quiet laughter as they finally peel themselves off the table. Sam turns to Dean, shoves him playfully and Dean snags him around the waist, kissing him full on the mouth. The way those boys look at each other is impossible to miss; they’re utterly besotted.

            Ellen gives them another minute to pull themselves together before she strides into the bar, a little louder than necessary. Sam and Dean slide away from each other quickly but casually, as if they’ve had years of practice. They greet her return and go back to shooting pool. Ellen shakes her head as she arranges the nuts on the bar top.

The next time Jo goes after Dean, she’s gonna tell her he’s hopeless.


End file.
